Happily Ever After
by Collie
Summary: Spike has a *horrible* nightmare.


TITLE: Happily Ever After.   
AUTHOR: Collie.   
SUMMARY: No. Just.. no. It scares me to even think about it.   
RATING: PG-13.   
IMPROV: boot -- tender -- ache -- flame   
FEEDBACK: Yes, damnit!   
SPOILERS: Nah.   
DISTRIBUTION: YGTS?, Through My Eyes, BAIA, and any list archives. Anyone else, just let me know.   
DISCLAIMER: They're not mine, and if they were, I *certainly* would not do this with them.   
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Answer to Fyre's gloveslap #18 at YGTS?: "Big soppy and lovey-dovey Buffy/permanently-souled Angel 'shippiness (as if that ain't bad enough), with many smoochies and snuggles. There can be interaction with the other Scoobies if you want, but it's not necessary. And Spike dies - don't care who or how by, but he dies, leaving poof boy and slutty to live happily ever after. Must finish with the ultimate line from any story - And they all lived happily ever after."   
DEDICATION: To Fyre -- may you rot eternally in hell for this. :D   
  
  
"Oh, Angel. You have no idea how happy I am that Wesley found that clause in your curse. It's so wonderful to be able to be with you again!"   
  
Buffy snuggled closer to Angel, who was grinning happily. He draped an arm around her shoulder as a salty sea breeze washed over them. They were sitting on the deck of an opulent beach house that Angel had rented for their honeymoon. The view was marvelous, the ocean waves crashing against the shore, music to their ears. The sky was clear and the stars seemed to be twinkling just for them.   
  
"It is pretty amazing. Oh, gosh, Buffy.. I can't wait to get started on our brand new life together! We'll be so happy and adopt dozens of children and live in suburbia and you can be on the PTA and I can work on the car and play with the dog -- well, at night, of course."   
  
Buffy giggled and nodded, bringing her lips up to Angel's in a sweet kiss, filled with love and promises of a wonderful future together, free of Slaying and demons and Spike and other dark and ooky things.   
  
"Oh, Angel.. let's go frolic on the beach, and then we can make mad and passionate monkey sex under the stars!"   
  
"Yes, let's!"   
  
And frolic they did.   
  
Buffy giggled and tossed her shining golden locks about, while Angel laughed and splished and splashed in the waves. Angel giggled and splashed Buffy. She squealed and ran into his arms, shivering slightly.   
  
"Oh, Angel.. it's so chilly out here. Will you keep me warm?"   
  
She raised her eyes to his face, peering at him under long lashes. She used those lashes to her best advantage, fluttering and batting them like there was no tomorrow. Angel actually caught a chill from the burst of air they shot at him. He just grinned a manly grin and wrapped Buffy's slight form in his big and overly-developed arms.   
  
"You know it, babe. I'm your man, you know."   
  
"I know! The only man I'll ever want!"   
  
"Buffy! Oh, BUFFY!"   
  
Buffy and Angel spun around, both frowning like they'd smelled something foul. Buffy clutched to Angel, hiding her face in his broad chest, which glistened in the moonlight.   
  
"Angel! What is that thing?! Kill it! It scares me, and it smells strange, and it has bad fashion sense!"   
  
Spike ran clumsily along the beach, holding a piece of paper in his hand, waving it about like crazy."   
  
"Buffy! My darling beauteous Slayer. I have written verse for you. Such mundane words cannot even begin to express my bursting affections for you, but if you'll allow me to profane your lovely shell-like ears with these words, I'll be forever your slave."   
  
Buffy and Angel glanced at eachother, then shrugged. Buffy turned back to Spike, nodding.   
  
"Yeah, okay."   
  
Spike cleared his throat, raising his arm to the sky, proclaiming:   
  
  
Oh, Slayer, with the Golden locks   
My heart, it aches with tender joy   
To look at you in pants or frocks;   
Please play with me: I am your toy!   
  
Your eyes are like a burning flame   
It scorches me to meet your stare   
You torture me with looks of shame;   
You really don't have stupid hair!   
  
Oh, Slayer, grant me one small kiss   
Oh Cupid's arrow you do shoot!   
You make me shake with loving bliss   
From bleached-blond hair to boots!   
  
Spike sank to his knees, lowering his head in shame.   
  
"I know the words are unworthy, as I am. Perhaps, if I'd used the word 'Effulgent', you would be mine."   
  
He paused, glancing up at the pair who were staring at him like he was a beached whale who'd washed up onto the shore. Spike continued, hoping an explaination would make them understand.   
  
"It's a perfectly perfect word as far as words go, but the bother is, nothing rhymes, you see."   
  
Buffy and Angel exchanged glances once again, speaking in unison.   
  
"Effulgent?"   
  
Buffy giggled and Angel rolled his eyes, leaning over to whisper in Buffy's ears.   
  
"He was always a terrible poet."   
  
Buffy nodded, snickering.   
  
"No need to tell me twice. Now, will you kill him for me? We have more important things to do tonight, like frolicking and touching eachother in obscene ways."   
  
Angel smiled and nodded, pulling a large wooden stake out of his swim trunks. Spike jumped to his feet, crushing the poem to his heart.   
  
"No, my effulgent beauty! No!"   
  
Angel snorted, plunging the stake through Spike's poem and straight into his heart. He burst into dust which was carried away on the fragrant sea breeze. Buffy bounced and giggled, wrapping her arms around Angel.   
  
"Oh, thank you, my big hunk of burning vampire love!"   
  
"My pleasure, my small lump of silky Slayer love.   
  
"So, Angel.. got any more stakes in your swim trunks? You know.. a stake especially for me?"   
  
They grinned lasciviously at one another, and Angel nodded.   
  
"Oh, yeah, babe. Now, let's get on with the wild monkey sex!"   
  
Angel pulled Buffy to the ground, and they humped like rabid bunnies.   
  
***   
  
Spike shot up in bed like he'd been electrocuted. He clamped a hand over his mouth, pressing the other to his churning stomach as his dinner threatened to seize up on him. When the heave-y feeling had passed, he let out a groan of utter disdain and fell back into bed, calling out weakly for Harmony.   
  
"Pet? Harm.. get a stake. Please, end my misery."   
  
Harmony appeared next to the bed, wearing that really ugly pink slip thing that she thought was sexy. Spike groaned as his stomach rumbled again. He rolled over on his side, his skin crawling where Harmony touched it.   
  
"Oh, Blondie Bear.. time to play.."   
  
Spike squeezed his eyes shut.   
  
"Maybe if I fall back asleep, I'll pick up where I left off. Being dust on this wind has got to be better than this."   
  
And they all lived happily ever after.   
  



End file.
